


temporize

by jeien



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: M/M, Oofuri Secret Santa, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeien/pseuds/jeien
Summary: Or: "Nishiura Really Can't Keep A Damn Thing Quiet, Huh?"An incident where Abe and Mihashi obliviously show up to practice wearing each other's clothes and the scenes that follow.





	temporize

**Author's Note:**

> For Oofuri Christmas Secret Santa 2017

No one says anything.

Even Tajima, who is consistently notorious for blabbing out whatever’s on his mind without any filters, keeps his silence—though he knits his lips together in a tight, wiggly line to keep his laughter in check. Izumi nudges him with his elbow because _Can you not? You’re being so obvious_. Coach Momoe has the correct intuition to politely not ask.

Hanai clears his throat before addressing the team in their weekend morning practice. “Right. We’re all here, so let’s get started for the day. Yesterday, we focused more on drills, so we’re going to switch gears and work on plays. Sound good?”

A weak wave of ‘Yes’s trickles throughout the group, with only Abe’s voice held firmly together. _Nice_ , Hanai thinks, trying hard not to let his expression fall into exasperation, _way to act natural, guys_. And they’re supposed to study together in the afternoon, too. This is already looking to be an eventful day.

“Alright, Nishiura, warm up!”

Practice goes surprisingly without incident and minimal giggles—thank goodness—but the walk to Mihashi’s house is as excruciating for the rest of them as it had been when they were in the changing room. Everyone makes small talk with one another in an attempt to distract each other from the elephant in the group and, for the most part, it’s working very well. (Tajima is still struggling and it’s beginning to affect Mizutani, who keeps glancing.) Nishihiro is just about ready to say something, when they hear a distant call.

“Guys, guys!” Hamada shouts, running up to them with the force of a spring wind. He’s completely oblivious to the delicate situation and, naturally, ruins all of the baseball team’s effort as soon as he looks at Abe and Mihashi. “Huh? Mihashi, why’s Abe wearing your shirt?”

The group breaks out in a groan, with Tajima crying out _IT WASN’T ME THIS TIME!_ as Suyama and Oki hold Izumi back from completely throttling Hamada. Abe and Mihashi look down at their clothes and pale.

“Oh, fuck, I—”

“—A-Abe-kun, I’m s-so sorry—!”

“—Dammit, Hamada, seriously?!”

“—Wait, what did I do?!”

“ _AHEM_ ,” Hanai says, rather loudly and with the sternness of Coach Momoe’s no-nonsense voice, to silence the mayhem. With all the talk about conditioning their bodies, they were just shy of being completely conditioned to believe that tone of voice would equal fifty laps around the field. “Guys. We’re out in the middle of the road. Let’s tone it down and take turns explaining like actual decent people. Abe and Mihashi—you guys first.”

“U-Um… Abe-kun slept over my house last night,” Mihashi says quietly, averting his eyes frequently and wringing his hands. “We, u-uh, helped my mom… make food… and our clothes got dirty so we p-put them in the wash…”  

“And you mixed them up when you took them out again?” Sakaeguchi asks.

Abe nods. “Yeah, we both fell asleep when they were in the dryer. We woke up late and we just grabbed whichever ones we latched onto first so we wouldn’t be late for practice.”

It’s a feasible enough explanation. They’re both fairly responsible people when it comes to punctuality, but they’re only high school students, too. There’s bound to be moments where they make mistakes. Makes sense. The morning fog of a tension finally starts to clear up—but, of course, the Nishiura baseball team wouldn’t be what it is if everything went as smoothly as possible.  

“Sooo,” Tajima starts and everyone catches on just a second too late, “you guys, like, didn’t do anything? At all? No bumping uglies or monkey spanking or nothing like that?”

“What? Of course we didn’t!” Abe shouts, hands ready for a pickled plum. Mihashi cocks his head to the side in confusion, muttering _Bumping? Monkeys? Eh?_

“Why else would you be sleeping over at his house, then?!”

“Tajima, will you just stop—?”

“Um!” Mihashi suddenly interrupts, his face turning pink at the cheeks. Even Abe, whose two moods are composed and angry, begins to blush. “A… Abe-kun needed to talk to me about something important… It… It took a long time to sort out…”

“Oh.”

Hanai quietly chants a mental prayer in his head of _Please let that be the end, please let that be the end, please let that be the end_ when Mizutani unfortunately takes the mantle from Tajima and nonchalantly says, “Oh, so you guys finally confessed your undying love for each other. Nice.”

Mihashi gapes wordlessly and flails his arms like a headless duck. Abe, meanwhile, sputters as he tries to decide whether to refute the statement or at least rephrase it into something more appropriate. Izumi dashes both his options with, “Please, we all knew that you guys were gay for each other. It’s about damn time. Anyway, can we just go to Mihashi’s place already? My legs are ready to give out and I’m this close to making Hamada my horse and just have him carry me there.”

“Wha—Why me?!”

The group resumes their trek, though Mihashi and Abe remain a few paces behind. Mihashi’s breathing starts to slow, normalize, even out. Abe lightly bumps into him from the side.

“Ren. You okay?”

“Um… Y-Yes.” Mihashi sucks in another breath and exhales, saying, “I’m—I’m glad. That they’re… okay with it, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Abe agrees, holding his hand: half for comfort, half just because he can. “I wasn’t too worried. They’re all stupidly nice.”

Mihashi hums a short, quiet note. The sounds of sneakers lightly crunching against the dirt, of bike wheels squeaking every now and then, of laughter and mock-offended exclamations—he’s glad that nothing’s changed from what it had been from the days before. It’s a weight off his shoulders.

“A-Abe-kun?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t… stretch out my shirt too much.”

“Huh?!”  


End file.
